


don't blame me, love made me crazy (i get so high, oh, every time, yeah every time you're loving me)

by bloodaccusedstones



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 13:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodaccusedstones/pseuds/bloodaccusedstones
Summary: Protect and serve. Your motto, your old mantra you would recite in your head when you were a little girl hiding in your bed from your parent’s arguments. But now, even when you are what you’ve always wanted to be (a police officer, a loving girlfriend, loyal, happy, belonging somewhere) she has changed that for you, somehow.





	don't blame me, love made me crazy (i get so high, oh, every time, yeah every time you're loving me)

**Author's Note:**

> woooow so its been three years guys i am so sorry i suck at life and havent published anything in so long. but heres a wayhaught fic as an apology. if you like it dont be afraid to leave a like or comment i really love seeing those. i hope you all enjoy

“I cheated on you.”

You stop pouring your cereal. She…she what? She cheated on you? You? The woman who would do anything for her. The woman who would shoot anyone for her, even her own sister.

“I mean it was just a kiss I didn’t sleep with anyone gosh no it was just a kiss it didn’t mean anything baby I swear it didn’t it was just well Rosita and I were just hanging out and it seemed like a good idea at the time because you know we were fighting and she was just there and I wanted to hurt you but I promise I swear that it didn’t mean anything I mean gosh baby I didn’t mean-”

You stop listening to her. You know she’ll ramble on forever if you let her and it’s obvious that she’s built this up inside of herself and now the flood gates are open. You turn your head towards her, slightly as to not look at her. 

“-and it wasn’t I big deal well I mean it IS a big deal I should really just shut my stupid big mouth up because I feel like I’m making things worse but I am so so sorry baby I promise I am it was a horrible horrible mistake and-”

“Its fine, Waverly.” 

She stumbles to a stop, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. 

“Wh-what? I cheated on you, Nicole!”

“Yeah but we’re both adults and you’re obviously apologetic about it. It…it didn’t mean anything, right?” You turn fully to her and she’s got tears in her eyes and her heart in her hands. 

“Of course it didn’t! I was just upset and hurt and I thought…I thought I should hurt you back but I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry baby.” She walks up to you and grabs your hands, cradling them in hers. She looks up at you and my god she’s looking at you the way she did when you were lying in a hospital bed the first time. The time you had to tell her that some crazy serial killer kidnapped her sister and you couldn’t save her. 

You lift your joined hands up to your mouth and you kiss her hands softly, gently, and lean your forehead on hers. Her hands snake around your neck and plays with the tips of your hair and you rub your hands down her back. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” You kiss her temple. “It’s okay,” you whisper because it really is okay, and her hands are shaking in your hair and you know she loves you. You know it was a mistake, a rash decision she regretted. “It’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” she all but cries into your neck. “it didn’t mean anything.” 

“I know. I’m a big girl, Waves, I know you didn’t mean it.” 

She sighs and hugs your neck tightly, as if she’s drowning in the big wide ocean that she’s never seen before and you are her lifeboat. You rub your cheek against hers and you can feel her relax under your hands. 

“Come on. Let’s eat our breakfast, yeah?” You feel her smile against your neck and you untangle yourself from her. You finish pouring your bowl of Lucky Charms and shake the box at her as an offering. She smiles and shakes her head, turning towards the bread to make herself some toast.

You’ve been with her long enough to know she’s going to make some toast and have some yogurt. You smile at her back while you crunch down on your Lucky Charms. 

///

“How about I call in and we’ll just stay in together today?”

“Nedley won’t be happy with you, though.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s been griping about me never taking any days off. Lonnie can cover my shift. He owes me, anyways.” 

“Well, what do you think we should do?” She gasps. “We can watch Moana! Finally!” 

“We’re totally going to watch Moana, baby. And you can tell me about that scholarly article you found the other day that made you so excited. The one about the singing mermaids.” 

“Jeez babe, they’re sirens not singing mermaids. Did you never watch Peter Pan?”

“I know that I just like seeing your nose crinkle like that. It’s cute.” 

“You’re lucky your cute or I’d whack you with the spatula.” 

“Well I didn’t expect you to be into that-”

“Nicole!”

///

“I miss her.” 

You stop chowing down on your mac and cheese and look over at her. She’s got two blankets covering herself as she lounges on the couch next to you. She hasn’t touched her half of the mac. 

“Wynonna? Baby, we can call her and you two can have a sister’s night out.” You put your hand on your heart. “I’ll even be your DD because I know how you two can get sometimes. It would be pretty awkward for me in Nedley called me to bail out my girlfriend and her sister.” You chuckle but Waverly hasn’t even smiled. You drop your hand and set your bowl on the coffee table. “Baby? Who do you miss? Your mother?” 

She shakes her head and you can see the tears glistening in her eyes, threatening to fall on her lap. You scoot over to her and your shoulders brush together. “Who do you miss then, sweetheart?” 

She opens her mouth but chokes on her words. She covers her mouth with her hand and screws her eyes shut. You tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear and lean towards her. “Alice?” 

She lets out a sob and you all but crumble around her. She’s shaking with the force of her tears and God you wish you could take her pain away and swallow it up. But you are not Cronus and her pain is not your sons. 

“I miss her.” She falls apart in your arms, and you feel like utter and absolute shit because this is all you can do. You can’t go and bring Waverly’s niece back. You can’t take away Waverly’s fear of abandonment she gained through her childhood. You can’t take away her sense of loneliness you know she feels in the blackness of the night whenever she can’t sleep. You can’t bring back her mother, her father, convince Wynonna not to leave her alone for years. You can’t take away Willa’s words and swords. You can only hold her and hope that’s enough. 

You pray it’s enough. 

///

Her vice grip on your arms is leaving red shadows in your skin but that doesn’t bother you. Not when she’s howling with the pain and hurt others carved into her chest. 

“I got you, Baby. I’ve always got you.” 

///

You gather her into your arms and carry her bridal-style into your bedroom. She melts into the mattress when you set her on your bed. She stopped crying a bit ago, but you can still hear her cries pounding in your ears. You kiss her forehead and go into the bathroom. You soak a washcloth in warm water and rinse it out. You pad back over to her and sit on the edge of the bed. 

Calamity Jane is perched next to her, rubbing her head against Waverly’s hand, softly demanding her attention. Funny how you and your cat want the same things in life. 

You walk over to the dresser and pull out an old t-shirt and shorts of yours for Waverly to change into. You love her style (how could you not with a body like hers?) but she’s exhausted from crying so much and you don’t want to drive her to the Homestead and leaving her with Wynonna. You know Wynonna loves Waverly more than anything, but she isn’t the best with emotional things. And this is REALLY emotional. 

You ask Waverly to sit up and she does so slowly. You crouch down between her legs and, in another situation, you know Waverly would’ve loved that because sometimes she loves seeing you on your knees. 

You reach up and cup Waverly’s cheek in the palm of your hands and she leans into it. 

“I’m okay, Nicole. Promise”. You rub your thumb over her cheekbone and smile softly. 

“You don’t always have to be,” you whisper. It’s too dark in your room and you’re afraid if you don’t whisper it’ll disturb the air and dust that has finally settled in Waverly's ribcage. 

She smiles softly, tears slowly rising to the surface and you kiss her before they fall. You wipe her eyes with the washcloth, washing away all the makeup and pain that smeared all over her face just an hour ago. “You’re beautiful,” you murmur. She scoffs and shakes her head. 

“I look like a complete mess. I probably got snot all over your couch.” Her eyes widen, and she looks down at you, horrified. “Your couch! God, it must be a mess now! I’m so sorry!” 

“Baby, it’s fine. It’s just a couch,” you chuckle. You glace down at your feet. “It’s kind of an ugly print anyways.”

She smiles lightly. “Yeah, it is.” 

You shoot her what you hope is a dirty look but by the grin breaking out on her face, you guess it wasn’t that scary at all. “It was from Goodwill okay. Fight me.” She giggles and you smile so hard you know your dimples have made an appearance. 

She runs her finger down the length of your forearms and your fingertips start to tingle. You must’ve grimaced because she asks you what’s wrong. You shake your head and tell her about your fingers tingling. She frowns and traces the scar on your arm from the Widow’s bite. 

Some small side effects from the bite is a small price to pay for saving Waverly’s life. 

You’d gladly pay it ten times over. 

///

You stand up, lightly tugging at the bottom of her crop top. 

“Let’s get you changed. You can wear some of my clothes and stay here tonight. If you want to, of course.” This is hardly the first time she’s stayed over at your place, but you always want to be sure that she’s not doing anything for you. You always want her to do something because she wants to, not because you want her to. 

“I don’t want to intrude, Nicole.” You scoff at that. 

“What’s mine is yours, Sweetheart.” She just looks at you. “I’d like you to stay here tonight. With me,” you add. “I’d rather you be here than anywhere else.” She smiles and nods her head when you tug at her crop top again, asking for permission. You slip her top above her head and put her in your old university t-shirt. You can’t help but kiss her thighs when you get her out of her jeans. You grin when you hear her breath catch in her throat and she grumbles at you not to tease her. You bow your head and slip a pair of your sleeping shorts onto her lovely legs. You stand up and change while she gets comfortable in your bed. As you walk by her to go brush your teeth she catches your hand in hers and tugs on it. You look down at her and she tugs at your hand again. 

You settle yourself on top of her, gently because you don’t want to crush her, and she wraps her arms and legs around you. You hum when she starts playing with your hair. 

“If I’d known you’d prefer my hair shorter I would’ve cut it earlier.”

She lightly smacks the back of your head. “Don’t be arrogant.” 

You kiss her neck as an apology and look at her. 

You get lost in her eyes, in her beauty, in her understanding and patience, in her blind loyalty and adorable rambles. 

She is everything you could’ve wished for but nothing you deserve. 

Protect and serve. Your motto, your old mantra you would recite in your head when you were a little girl hiding in your bed from your parent’s arguments. But now, even when you are what you’ve always wanted to be (a police officer, a loving girlfriend, loyal, happy, belonging somewhere) she has changed that for you, somehow. You want to be hers, fully and honestly. You want to be with her every waking minute of the day. You want to cook her dinner when you get off work early. You want to hold her hand when you walk down the sidewalk. You want to laugh and kiss her when she smiles and points at wild flowers growing on the side of the road. You want to be with her until your lungs stop working and your dreams are unattainable. 

She runs her fingertips down the side of your face and you smile. 

“What are you thinking about, baby?” You shake your head and smile, and she curls a strand of your hair around her finger. 

“I love you,” you whisper, like it’s a secret you mumble in the shadows, afraid to admit it or as if someone might overhear you. But it is no secret and you have no need to whisper. 

“I love you,” she whispers back, grinning. 

You lean down, and you kiss her. 

You could kiss her until the end of time if she would let you. 

///

You sit around the bonfire, your hat in one hand and a beer in the other. Waverly and Wynonna are singing and jumping around the fire, creating their own type of dance you assume. They look ridiculous; you see Dolls cover his eyes in secondhand embarrassment more often than he probably would like to admit. Rosita walks up being you and snatches your hat from you, laughing like a maniac and plops it on Waverly’s head. 

Wynonna ends up giving Waverly a piggy-back ride while Waverly waves your Stetson around, both yelling widely while Rosita laughs her ass off. Jeremy and Doc are sitting next to Dolls, all talking about how easy it would be to kill all the revenants if they were all as drunk as the girls were. You laugh because it would be so easy; everything would be so much easier without those damn demons. 

As everyone stands around the fire, drink in hand and hearts light for the first time in so long, you can’t help but watch Waverly. She’s a fool tonight, carrying on with Wynonna in a drunken haze and you know her migraine will be horrible tomorrow morning. But you’ll be there, forcing her to take an aspirin and shower before you strap on your gun and badge. She’ll complain, you’re sure she will, but she’ll give you a kiss when she sees you in the station or when you get home. 

Somehow, even with her cranky, migraine riddled ass, she’ll still make you laugh, still kiss you just a sweetly as she can, still play with your hair. She’ll still be your home, your wildflower, your heart. 

You take a drink of your beer, smiling at the two sisters; one an asshole but fiercely loyal friend, and the other, your entire world. You lean back in your chair and look off into the dark night glittered with stars galore. 

Waverly still outshines them all.


End file.
